


Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

by Scout924



Series: Stucky Ficlets [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Best Friends, Blow Jobs, Fluff, M/M, New York, Pining, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Smut, Sweet Bucky Barnes, The World's Fair, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-14 22:36:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13599876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scout924/pseuds/Scout924
Summary: Steve has another bad bout of luck with the ladies, and Bucky reminds him to keep his chin up.





	1. Chapter 1

Steve watches Bucky up ahead, practically skipping with excitement. It’s Sunday afternoon, and Bucky is fit to burst over the opening of the New York World’s Fair. Steve had scrimped and saved, picking up odd jobs and babysitting their neighbors’ obnoxious twins to save up for two tickets for Bucky’s birthday last month.

 

This event was supposed to drag New York and the rest of the country out of the Depression, and after the look on Bucky’s face when he opened the passes, Steve thinks it could do just about anything. He really wanted season tickets, but at fifteen dollars a pop, he’d have to work until he was fifty to get ahold of that kind of cash. Once he’d carefully counted out $7.50 for two souvenir passes, he felt like the richest man alive with the tickets heavy in his pocket. He wasn’t sure how they’d be eating next week, but it would be worth every penny when Bucky walked through those gates.

 

Bucky is crowing with delight, and has been running his trap since they picked their dates up at Sharon’s doorstep down the block. Steve has his hands behind his back, occasionally darting eyes over at his date, a pretty blonde named Eleanor.

 

“She’s just shy,” Bucky had whispered in his ear, nudging Steve forward as Sharon giggled into her hand. She beamed as Bucky pulled her tight against his side.

 

“Stevie, Stevie! Can you see it?!” Bucky’s walking backwards, blue eyes bright as a kid on Christmas morning. He points wildly up ahead at a large, white spherical shaped structure.

 

“Up ahead, look!”

 

Steve can’t help but chuckle, he hasn’t seen Bucky this happy since he landed his first job.

 

“I see ‘em, Buck. Careful where you’re going,” he chides. Bucky bumps into Sharon, who’s laughing at his antics. He lays a loud kiss on her cheek and she squeals. Steve tries for another glance at his date, wishing he was up ahead gabbing with Bucky.

 

He knew when he bought the tickets Bucky would want to bring girls, but Steve misses the days when they were just boys and could kick around town without entertaining dames.

 

“Oh, c’mon, Stevie,” Bucky would say, elbowing him good-naturedly. “You never know, you might get a good night kiss.”

 

He didn’t want a good night kiss, but he went along with a nod and a smile whenever Bucky invited him, satisfied with his company. Bucky never made him feel like the third wheel, and insisted he come along every time Bucky had a girl to take out. Steve had to admit, he always had a good time when Bucky was around, but tonight he would have given anything to have a night alone exploring with his best friend.

 

The sun is setting up ahead, pink hues framing Bucky’s dark curls, which are slicked to perfection with pomade. When the gates and impossibly long lines start to loom in front of them, Bucky turns on his heel and grabs Steve by the shoulder.

 

“I can’t believe we’re really here. Stevie, you’re the best friend a guy could ask for.”

 

His cheeks are flushed with excitement, his nose inches from Steve’s as they grin impossibly hard at each other, Bucky’s giddy elation contagious as the flu bug. Steve feels his hands tingle nervously at Bucky’s closeness, but then he’s gone in a flash, grabbing Sharon’s hand and skipping into the line.

 

 

——- 

 

 

They step out of the _Perisphere_ exhibit, Steve’s head still reeling from the heights, Bucky yanking on Sharon’s hand and yapping over his shoulder for Steve to come on.

 

“You girls want a cotton candy?” He crowed, trademark swagger in his step as he looped his arm around his date. “Steve got our tickets, least I can do is get snacks.”

 

The boys fall in line at the concession stand, leaving the girls to rest on a bench a few yards ahead.

 

“Man, I think this has been the best day of my life.” Bucky blows out a breath, nose crinkling as an uncontrollable laugh bubbles out of his mouth. He crosses his arms across his chest and rocks back on his heels. Steve smiles back and nudges him playfully.

 

“Geez, Buck, it’s just the fair.”

 

“It’s the _World’s Fair,_ Stevie!” He exclaims, eyes wide and arms splayed. “This is the future! Trains, planes, automobiles. 'The World of Tomorrow!' Did you see when they put that Plymouth together?! That was a 3D _film!”_ Bucky’s practically jumping up and down.

 

“Yeah, but did ya feel the air conditioning in that room?” Steve adds, collecting two cones of spun sugar and two foot-longs as Bucky pays. “That’s the kind of future I can get behind.”

 

“Seriously, man. This was the best. I had no idea this is why you were workin’ late all those nights. I’ll remember this birthday for the rest of my life,” he says earnestly, his big blue eyes as soft as the cotton candy Steve clutches in his sweaty palms. He practically trips over the sidewalk as Bucky looks over at him, an almost bashful turn of his lips.

 

“Aw, Ellie!”

 

“You’re lucky, Sharon. Bucky’s a dollbaby. So sweet and smooth. Steve’s just…”

 

She shrugs, pretty grimace pulled across her features that Steve can see up ahead. Steve falters and Bucky stops beside him as they approach the girls from behind and catch the end of their conversation.

 

“Okay, so he _is_ kind of an Ethel, but at least he’s nice! C’mon, for me?” Sharon nudges her friend, and Steve and Bucky stand back far enough they’re out of sight.

 

“Hey, Stevie,” Bucky starts quietly, a hand on his bicep, but Steve’s already starting forward and shrugging him off.

 

“Ain’t no skin off my nose, Buck. Hey girls,” he raises his voice, presenting them with pink and blue cotton candy as they smile in return.

 

 

——- 

 

 

It’s dark, and hundreds of people are spilling out into the streets as they leave the fair. Steve quietly bids Eleanor good night with a small nod while Bucky disappears with Sharon around the corner. When he returns a few minutes later, he kisses her hand and she blushes a pretty pink, wiggling her fingers as they go.

 

The boys plod down the dark sidewalk in silence. “Look, Steve---”

 

“You ain’t gotta say nothin’, Bucky. It’s just another night with another girl.” Steve sighs, avoiding his best friend’s gaze.

 

“Now don’t be like that, she was just a dumb broad. Don’t let her ruin your night.”

 

“It ain’t my night, pal. It’s your birthday. S’long as you had fun, I’m havin’ fun.” He tries for a smile and throws out an elbow.

 

“Look, I had the night of my life, girls or nah. But I can’t have it if you didn’t have a good time. You just didn’t get a chance to talk to her much, so she--”

 

“Aw come on, Buck, lay off. I know what the girls say about me, so why you always gotta drag some poor dame along to put up with me for the night? I’m too skinny, bony, delicate. Gonna shrivel up and blow away. Scared they’re gonna break my hand if they hold it. Homely, boring, you name it.” Bucky winces at his side, harsh lines on his forehead as he furrows his brow.

 

“You wanna take somebody out next time, just leave me out of it. I ain’t tryin’ to ruin anybody’s night having to stand around with an _Ethel_ ,” he sneers, skinny arms crossed over his chest. The jeer cuts deeper than he'd like to admit.

 

“You shut your trap, Rogers,” Bucky snaps then, fingers closing around his bicep. He stops abruptly, Steve almost tumbling forward with the motion, and Bucky pulls him into an alleyway on their right. The little light they had from the street falls away, and they’re shrouded in darkness.

 

“Listen here, Stevie.” Bucky’s strong nose catches a sliver of moonlight, illuminating his face. “Yeah, there ain’t much to ya. Big deal.” He shoves Steve lightly with two fingers on his bony chest. “Most girls are just Dumbbells anyway. If they took the time to know ya, they’d know you were the best guy in all of Brooklyn. But you’re special, Stevie. A regular ‘ol guy can nab any dame, but you--you’re gonna find the right gal some day who’ll think you’re the bees knees. She’ll fall head over heels as soon as she lays eyes on you. Mark my words.”

 

Steve rolls his eyes and Bucky leans in closer, catching his gaze. “Believe me or don’t, Stevie. But I’m tellin’ you the truth. And you know what else?”

 

He waits, warm breath fanning over Steve’s lips he’s so close.

 

“If I were a dame, I’d take you just the way you are. I think you’re perfect, Stevie. I’d be damn lucky to have you.” His thick dark eyelashes fan over his cheeks as he slowly brings his gaze up to Steve’s. If it wasn’t so dark, he’d swear a blush was blooming over Bucky’s full cheeks. Steve’s fingers are tingling again, a mix of emotions fighting for space in his chest. He itches to pull Bucky closer.

 

“I like how little you are, ya know? Slim wrists, narrow hips, you fit so sweet right under my arm.” Bucky’s voice drops to a low whisper, his face sliding over Steve’s shoulder so he’s practically whispering in his ear. Arousal blooms hot in his belly, confusion and excitement buzzing under his skin.

 

Wisps of Bucky’s hair, curls loose from his style, brush against the shell of Steve’s ear. Steve wonders if Bucky can hear his heart thundering in his chest, because he feels like half of Manhattan can hear the sound. Sweat beads at his armpits and it’s all he can do not to squirm at the closeness, the fondness of his best friend’s words.

 

Bucky turns and runs the tip of his nose along Steve’s cheekbone. He replaces it with his lips to press a warm kiss to Steve’s cheek. It’s soft and sweet, lingering for several moments. The touch is so reverent it makes Steve’s bones ache.

 

Then he’s gone, pulled away and throwing Steve a crooked grin. “So don’t sweat it, Stevie. The right one will come along, just you see. Until then, you got me. Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” He winks and wraps an arm around Steve’s skinny shoulders, tucking him snug against him.

 

Steve feels so light he’s surprised he doesn’t float the whole way home.

 

 

Maybe he got that good night kiss after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve closes the front door quietly behind him, deadbolt sliding into place. He sees Bucky sitting out on their small apartment balcony, face upturned and eyes closed, like a lizard in the sun. He’s been working on making it outside on his own terms, and his relaxed demeanor makes Steve smile. The door is open slightly, and Bucky sits on the concrete, legs folded akimbo.

 

“Hey Bucky,” he greets from the kitchen counter, placing his cell phone and keys on the counter. Bucky gives him a small smile over his shoulder and rises to help put away the groceries Steve's brought from the store.

 

Bucky’s stacking cans of black beans when he asks, “Could we try going somewhere?”

 

A giddy feeling blooms in Steve’s chest, and he takes a deep breath to respond calmly. “Sure, Buck. What did you have in mind?”

 

Bucky shrugs, lips pursed. “Dunno. Thought maybe we could make it to the wharf and back by sundown.”

 

He lets a smile slip past his lips at the ease in which Bucky talks about something that used to send him spiraling into panic. “Yeah. That’s---that’s great. Let’s do it.”

 

Steve goes on putting fruit in the crisper drawer for awhile when Bucky speaks again.

 

“Steve, do you…uh,”

 

He lets out a sigh and trails off. Steve peers at him from over his shoulder to see him biting his lip and staring off into space with a furrowed brow. Steve lets him fight for the words on his own, going on as if he’d said nothing.

 

“Do you remember...we were young I think...teenagers. We went to a big fair and...well, maybe...”

 

He trials off again, pacing slowly around the breakfast nook. Steve freezes, a bottle of ketchup clenched tightly in his hand. He knows exactly what Bucky is remembering, but he wants to see where he’s going with this.

 

“It was huge, tons of people were there. And...it’s hard to remember if I dreamed it or if it was really back in the old days because...there were flying cars? Am I making any sense?” He finally asks, dark eyebrow cocked.

 

“Yeah, you’re right. It really happened, that was 'The World’s Fair.' It was a big science and technology thing, scientists from all over the world came to showcase how things would start getting better.”

 

“You bought me tickets.” Bucky’s blue eyes are clearer, darting a little as he remembers. Steve lets out a breath as Bucky goes on.

 

“For my birthday, right? Geez, Stevie, how much did that cost? You never would tell me, I remember feeling so...guilty,” he says, eyes far away. He puts a hand to his stomach like he can feel the bitter pinch of guilt in his gut.

 

“Aw, it wasn’t that bad,” Steve responds, turning back to the counter. Bucky’s memory may come in fits and bursts, but Steve clearly remembers juggling Mrs. Weinstein’s annoying twin boys for fifty cents an afternoon when he got home from school.

 

“Hey do you remember that big white balloon—-“

 

“The Parachute Ride!”

 

“I didn’t want to go because—-“

 

“You said it’d be worse than that time on the Cyclone! But I made you feel bad—“

“Because it was your damn birthday! Always were a drama queen…”

 

“But you loved it and—-“

 

“We rode it three times!” Steve’s doubles over in laughter at this point, his cheeks sore from smiling. 

 

“I remember it,” Bucky says, his smile bright as the sun. “Yeah, Stevie, I remember.”

 

Steve straightens and just takes Bucky in. His dark hair hangs almost to his shoulders, tucked behind his ears. The metal arm is exposed from the elbow down, as Bucky has his sweatshirt sleeves pushed up. His feet are bare on the tile floor, full lips slightly parted as his eyes gaze off. He looks like he’s watching the memory from an old film-style projector that Steve can’t see. He wishes he could replay that night right now. He’d live it over again a thousand times.

 

“I had a blast. My cheeks hurt I smiled so much,” he comments idly, putting a hand to his face.

 

“Did you really have a good time?” Bucky asks suddenly, like they were just walking out the gates of the Fair, circa 1939. There’s something twitching in the back of his gaze, and Steve knows the memory is gaining on him.

 

“Oh yeah, Buck. I had the time of my life,” he lies, opening the pantry door and stowing away the bag of sugar to avoid Bucky’s probing eyes.

 

“Steve.”

 

 

His voice is deeper, dropped low and soft, and Steve begs for any excuse not to turn around and see his face. He doesn’t know what he’ll find there, but he knows it’ll be some combination of the old Bucky, his best friend, his favorite person, and for just a moment it’ll be like he’s stepped through a time machine to have a conversation with the man who went down on the train.

 

“Look Buck, what she said didn’t bother me, and it was a really, really long time ago,” he turns, trying for a chuckle. But Bucky steps closer, eyes cautious. Maybe even a little guilty.

 

“I was so...pissed off,” he says, opening and closing his metal hand. “After you went to all that trouble and she didn’t even…” He takes a breath and fixes Steve with a look.

 

“You know, I meant what I said that night. I wasn’t just trying to make you feel better.”

 

Steve’s mouth goes dry. He’s got a handful of memories like that one, snatches of emotion and tenderness shared between the two of them from days gone by. He keeps them carefully guarded in his mind, and combs over them one by one, like a well-worn photo album that only he can see.

 

He’s also fantasized, rather guiltily, about what would have happened had he turned his mouth to meet Bucky’s as he whispered sweet, soothing words in his ear. How Bucky would have reacted if he kissed him.

 

“I know, Buck. I appreciated it.”

 

“No, I don’t think you understand, Stevie.”

 

Bucky raises his flesh hand to place it reverently on Steve’s shoulder.

 

“That was the best birthday I’ve ever had. You worked so hard to give me that, a night I’d always remember. And I just thought you deserved that good night kiss.”

 

When Steve looks up and sees that playful smirk, the knowing look in Bucky’s eye that has not faded with age not one bit, Steve thinks he’ll have to swallow down a tear or two at the sight of it. 

 

“S’why I brought the girls along, though the whole time I wished it was just me and you.”

 

Steve swallows thickly, his words like gravel. “Yeah, me too.”

 

Bucky’s blue eyes search his face, and he lets the hand on Steve’s shoulder travel down to his wrist, fingers wrapping gently around the skin there.

 

“I just wanted you to have a good time, know you got sick of being the third wheel.”

 

Steve looks away, over Bucky’s shoulder, knowing if he stares at him any longer he’ll do something he‘ll regret. “Eh, didn’t matter none to me. I just wanted to be around you, didn’t care who else was there.”

 

Then he feels warm lips on his palm, and his eyes flick up to see Bucky pressing a soft kiss there.

 

“See, that’s why I got so mad, pal. After all you’d done for me,  _ do _ for me,” he says, fingers squeezing Steve’s wrist with the words. “I just wanted to thank you properly. And you deserved that good night kiss.” He says it again, eyebrows raised.

 

“Then why didn’t you do it?” He can’t help himself, Steve knows it was written all over his face that night, just as it is now.

 

The warmth of Bucky’s chest slides against Steve’s, and the hand slides back up Steve’s arm to gently grip his shoulder. His mouth is mere inches away, and Steve vaguely wonders how long he can go without breathing.

 

“I should have, but I was a punk.” He laughs so softly, breath washing over Steve’s lips.

 

“Think I’ll get a second chance?”

 

The last words are but a breath ghosting over Steve’s lips. His eyes flutter closed, and he’s pressing his mouth over Steve’s, one featherlight kiss, then two, and three, until Steve’s brain stops short-circuiting and he kisses Bucky back.

 

His mind is hazy when they pull apart, his body soft and pliant where Bucky is pressing him against the cabinet doors. He feels warm and sated, the pressure of Bucky’s strong body holding him close and secure, hands still cupping his jaw. 

 

“Been wanting to do that a long time, Stevie,” he mouths against Steve’s lips. “I thought it was wrong of me to say it, that I’d gone too far, especially when I said you’d fit so sweet under my arm.” Steve’s brain comes back online at the phrase, remembering Bucky’s rumbling voice in his ear, as it is now. He’s replayed that line in his mind many a night, most of which were spent with his fingers wrapped around his own cock.

 

Bucky nibbles at his jaw, kissing and worrying the skin with more and more intensity as he moves to the place under his ear.

 

Steve shivers and Bucky chuckles lowly, the noise vibrating his whole body.

 

“See there, I thought you liked it, didn’t you, pal? That I was sweet on you? I’d have done anything for you, Stevie. Still would.”

 

His hands slide down to curl around Steve’s wrists, thumbs rubbing the skin there. “I always said when I got back I’d tell ya, I’d come home and take care of you like I always wanted to, to hell with the rest of it.” Bucky comes back to kiss him again, slow and deep. He’s drunk on the attention and Bucky’s careful ministrations.

 

“So how about I do it now?” Steve opens his eyes and Bucky’s wearing that damn smirk again. He punctuates it with a soft roll of his hips, pressing firmly against the ache between Steve’s legs. It feels sinfully good, and he wonders how he’s still holding himself up on such weak knees. He lets his face curl into the crook of Bucky’s neck.

 

“How ‘bout I take care of you, Stevie, real good. You know I will.” He whispers the words against Steve’s cheek, asking softly again and again until Steve musters the energy to nod. Bucky cants his hips up again and Steve bites back a groan, choosing instead to breathe in the scent of his best friend, which is somehow still the same after almost a century of life, death, and rebirth.

 

His erection rubs painfully against the rough fabric of his jeans when Bucky collects his wrists in one hand, his long metal fingers effectively trapping them together.

 

“Still got those small wrists, dontcha, doll?” He drops to one knee, like a suitor asking for his hand. Steve can only swallow and stare dumbly down as Bucky eyes the bulging fabric now level with his mouth.

 

He runs his flesh hand over it, up and down, almost reverently, before he presses his hot, wet mouth to the spot. It’s all Steve can do to keep his hips still, itching for more pressure as his cock twitches under Bucky’s attention. His nose hooks under Steve’s T-shirt to trail along the skin just above his jeans, rubbing the sensitive skin there until sweat breaks out on Steve’s brow. He can audibly hear himself panting.

 

“You know how many times I thought about this?” Bucky asks, his smile soft as he thumbs open Steve’s jeans and pulls the zipper down carefully. Steve can only murmur in response, while Bucky’s chatting like they’re talking about what to have for dinner. He always did run his mouth.

 

He pulls Steve out of his underwear, the cool air against his heated skin making him hiss and arch his back sharply.

 

“So sensitive, Stevie, just like I knew you’d be.” He wraps calloused fingers around Steve’s cock, sheathing him in one smooth motion.

 

“Goodness, look at you. I must've pictured this a thousand times, you know? So sweet for me,” he whispers, blowing a gentle breath over the head. A shiver runs rampant down Steve's spine. He's embarrassed to hear a whine slip out of his throat. Bucky squeezes the fingers of his metal hand around Steve's wrists a little tighter, just enough to remind him he's held tight in Bucky's care.

 

“Shh, Stevie,” he continues the soft breaths and slides a hand up to cup Steve’s thigh, just under the swell off his ass. “I’ll shut my trap now, I promise.”

 

Steve forces his eyes open, desperate not to miss the sight. He catches a devilish grin from Bucky before he’s taking him into his mouth, full lips sliding over the exposed skin like they were made to do so. He cups Steve’s ass with both hands, releasing his wrists and pulling him forward until the entire length of him disappears down Bucky’s throat. Steve lets out a low, hungry groan, his head dropping to thud against his chest, all his energy at the mercy of the man kneeling at his feet. 

 

Bucky works him, slick mouth expertly stroking his most sensitive areas until Steve can’t help but thrust into his mouth, quickening the rhythm and aching for friction. Bucky lets out a low groan against his cock, his hands pushing Steve deeper and deeper until he's spilling into Bucky's mouth with a choked cry. He drops a hand down to grasp Bucky’s shoulder as the man pulls off him, and damn if Bucky doesn’t lick his lips while he swallows, grinning like a Cheshire cat. He pats Steve’s ass and hauls himself to his feet, pressing them both back against the cabinet and letting Steve rest against his chest.

 

He runs his hands up the back of Steve's shirt, rubbing soothing circles into his skin and holding him until Steve can lift his head.

 

"Feel alright, Stevie?" He asks softly, getting a smile and a chuckle in return. 

 

Then, "I'm not too late, am I?" 

 

Steve looks up to find Bucky's eyes questioning, trouble slightly furrowing his brow. 

 

Steve huffs and presses a kiss to his cheek, lingering there until Bucky's unwarranted fears subside and he feels him relax against him.  

 

"Nah, Buck. I’d wait another seventy years if I had to for a good night kiss like that.” He chucks Bucky’s dimpled chin. 

 

 

“Good thing we’ve got all the time in the world."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first attempt at smut! Feedback is greatly appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little ditty that popped up while I was trying to work on Demons Run. I just love pre-war Steve and Bucky, though this is my first time writing it.  
> The New York World’s Fair was a huge deal at the time, and would have been right up Bucky’s alley. It opened April 30, 1939, when Steve and Bucky would have been 21 and 22, though I imagined them being around 17 in this story. The US joined the war in 1941, and Bucky joined the Army after the attack on Pearl Harbor, so this would have been a few years before the main events of The First Avenger.  
> An "Ethel" is a 30s slang term for an effeminate male.  
> I hope you enjoyed! I may write a second installment for this if I’m feeling particularly procrastinatey...


End file.
